


The Best Part

by eurydice72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Flat mates, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:38:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/pseuds/eurydice72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Morgana needs a temporary place to stay, Merlin insists she move in with him. That's what friends do for each other, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Part

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AJsRandom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJsRandom/gifts).



> For AJsRandom, who requested sweet Mergana and "just falling in love."
> 
> Fills friends to lovers, flat mates, and weddings & proposals squares on my Merlin Writer's Tropes Bingo card.

From the start, Merlin meant it to be a temporary arrangement. He was only helping out, and after all, Morgana had money of her own. She could’ve easily found her own flat or stayed at a hotel or even traveled until she was ready to put it all behind her.

But when he walked into Arthur and Gwen’s that Thursday night for their usual evening of bad movies and sugary treats and found instead a pale Morgana on the corner of the couch with Gwen’s consoling arm around her shoulder, it took only the briefest of explanations for him to extend the offer.

“Stay with me.”

All eyes turned to him, but his were still fixed on the red splotch marring Morgana’s otherwise flawless cheek. Though he didn’t consider himself a violent person, he’d barely been able to tamp down his fury when he heard about the row Morgana and Valiant had earlier that day, the one that ended with him striking her once before she hit him back and stormed out. He’d never liked Valiant. The very thought of raising his hand to a woman left Merlin sick to his stomach. He should’ve known from the start that Valiant was the type who’d revert to physical attacks when backed into a corner by someone clearly his better.

“You don’t want me living with you,” Morgana said.

“She can stay with us,” Gwen added.

Merlin caught the quick glance Arthur shot at Gwen, but he would’ve stepped in anyway. “You two barely get any time alone with all the wedding arrangements,” he said. “And I have the spare room now that Will’s moved out.”

“I still have my room at Father’s, too,” Morgana countered.

Merlin refused to back down. “Is Valiant still Uther’s golden boy?”

“You don’t really think he’d side with Valiant over Morgana, do you?” Gwen said. “He _hit_ her. That’s inexcusable.”

Arthur grimaced. “It’ll turn into his word against hers about what happened. And without proof, Father has a tendency to accept Valiant’s above anyone else’s. Remember how he sided with Valiant when that money came up missing? I had two different girls from Accounting who backed me up, but the records were deleted before Father could see them. For whatever reason, he’s got a blind spot as far as Valiant is concerned.”

“Besides, if you go to Uther’s, you won’t be able to avoid Valiant,” Merlin said.

Morgana lifted her chin in defiance. “I’m not going to hide from him.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to hide.”

“He does have a tendency to charm you into forgiving him,” Gwen added.

Even Morgana had to concede that point, which convinced Merlin to press on. “It’s not like it’s permanent. But it gets you out of that place tonight instead of keeping you in his path while you try to find someplace suitable.”

“I don’t want to put you out.” 

Merlin looked her straight in the eye, mustering every ounce of sincerity he possessed so she’d believe him. “You wouldn’t. This way, everybody wins. Except for that wanker because now he’ll have to pay his own way instead of letting you foot the whole bill.”

Morgana gave a short bark of laughter, though the lingering sadness in her eyes belied any humor. “I can’t believe how blind I’ve been.”

“Not blind.” Gwen squeezed her tight. “Just in love.”

So it was settled, and movie night got swapped out for drinking and badmouthing Valiant night, which for Merlin and Morgana, turned out to be far more enjoyable. Everybody passed out in the lounge instead of going home. The next morning, when Merlin was waiting for the taxi he’d called to take him and Morgana back to her place to pick up a few things, she surprised him with a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” she said.

He smiled down at her. “Just doing what any good friend would do.”

In that moment, he actually believed it, too.

* * *

Temporary stretched into one month, then two, though there’d been a patch during the first week when Morgana began fussing about what a slob he was that Merlin had seriously considered shipping her back to Arthur and Gwen’s to deal with. He kept his mouth shut, though, and they soon found an equilibrium that satisfied both of their natures. In the hour he had by himself after Morgana left for work, Merlin took to tidying up the worst of the mess, while Morgana decided she needed to learn how to cook and had dinner waiting for him when he stumbled home from the hospital.

“You just want a guinea pig who’s too nice to tell you the truth,” Merlin teased the first night he came home to it.

Morgana cocked a brow. “Considering you’re one of the few people in this world who will actually be honest with me whether I want it or not, that might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

He shrugged and let it go, especially since her first attempt—shepherd’s pie—wasn’t half-bad. He ate all of his portion and half of hers when she wrinkled her nose at how lumpy her mash was.

“All right, you’re being nice,” she grumbled.

“The lumps are the best part,” he said around a mouthful.

She didn’t believe him until he took her around to his mum’s for Sunday dinner the following week. When she tasted the first lump in Hunith’s mash, Merlin grinned at her.

“Told you so.”

Truth be told, he rather liked having someone else around. There were nights he got home where the last thing he wanted—or frankly, needed—was to be alone. It was usually after something bad had happened during his shift, when he realized there was still so much beyond his control, that his education and dedication wasn’t yet strong enough to hold all the evils that plagued people at bay. Before Morgana, on those nights he’d end up too much stuck in his head, playing the events over and over again, trying to find the detail he’d missed that would’ve yielded a much happier outcome.

When he’d been in uni, Arthur had played that role. Then the string of other roommates right up until Will because Merlin had recognized just how necessary it was to have that outside contact to pull him from the dark places. But the window of time between Will and Morgana had stretched too long, and he’d become far too comfortable with the shadows that plagued him when she moved in.

She didn’t dispel them right away. Morgana had her own dark spaces, hollowed out of her by the destructive men she couldn’t seem to shake. Uther had started it, of course, with his split personality in how he treated her. Kid gloves where she was precious and perfect one moment, the next with criticism and frustration where nothing she did was good enough. Valiant was just the latest in the stream. Her force of nature personality made it impossible to tolerate such obvious abuse, but she had her weaknesses, too, the sad little girl inside who didn’t understand what she was doing wrong to make people treat her the way they sometimes did.

Merlin had seen that part of her from the first time they’d met. It was just one of many reasons why he encouraged Gwen’s friendship with her, in hopes that side of Morgana would finally begin to see it had nothing to do with her.

The day he witnessed the victims of a horrific crash die one by one after they were brought in, he walked into the flat to the sound of Morgana singing loudly and off-key in the kitchen. A joyous freedom filled her voice in ways that hadn’t since she’d moved in, and within moments, Merlin’s eyes flooded with unbidden tears. 

She had her whole life ahead of her. Did she know how lucky she was?

His stomach threatened to revolt. As Morgana’s singing cut off, Merlin bolted for the loo, the call of his name drifting after him. He barely got there in time. He was still huddled over the toilet when Morgana appeared in the door, too embarrassed about losing it to face her.

“Why didn’t you say you were getting sick?” The sound of running water in the sink threatened Merlin’s marginal control, and he squeezed his eyes shut to try blocking it out. Morgana’s soft hand settled between his shoulder blades, rubbing up and down. “You ready to rinse out your mouth?”

Merlin shook his head. “Not sick.”

“I think the evidence begs to differ.”

“It’s not what you think.” He waited until his nausea abated, letting Morgana’s gentle touch soothe away the impulse. Once, he made the mistake of sniffling, and the sour taste of bile almost made him lose it again, but he spit it out into the toilet and reached blindly for the glass she offered. When he was sure it had passed, he rubbed his shirtsleeve over his eyes before sitting back onto his heels. “It was a rough day.”

She didn’t press. After Merlin cleaned up, she led him back to the living room and curled up on the settee next to him as he began to spill the tale. By the end, she’d closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said. “I truly don’t. But you know you did everything you could, don’t you? You’re not even done with your specialty training.”

“That shouldn’t make a difference,” he muttered.

“Only to you.” She snapped back to her feet and grabbed his hand. “Come on. I’m taking you out tonight. We’ll get something fattening and decadent and forget all about today.”

He resisted her pull. “I can’t. It’ll feel like I’m celebrating, and I just…I can’t.”

“All right.” She seemed unfazed by his refusal and abandoned him to fetch her phone. “Then we’ll order in and watch that _Father Ted_ marathon you’ve got sitting on the DVR.”

“But you hate _Father Ted_.”

The smile she shot him was brilliant. “Tonight’s not about me, dummy. Now what do you want, Indian or Chinese?”

* * *

The first time Valiant came around the flat to talk to Morgana, Merlin refused to answer the door. Morgana wasn’t home anyway—she was out on a much-needed girls’ night with Gwen—but Merlin had no desire to deal with Valiant’s belligerence. According to Arthur, Valiant was playing the jilted boyfriend role at work, using Morgana’s flighty dating history to support his version of the truth. Morgana refused to talk about it or even defend herself to her co-workers.

“They aren’t going to believe me anyway,” she said.

Merlin thought she wasn’t giving her co-workers enough credit, but held his tongue. It was her decision to make. Though he didn’t agree with it, he had to respect it.

The second time Valiant came around, Merlin wasn’t there. He didn’t even find out about the visit until after he got home from the hospital. Morgana was uncharacteristically quiet as he set the table, but when he sat down, she hovered near the hob.

“Valiant stopped by,” she said.

Merlin froze. “And?” he prompted.

She shrugged, though she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “He just wanted to talk.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “And he couldn’t do that while you were both at work?”

“It wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

“Neither is coming here.”

“All he wanted was to apologize. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give him the chance?”

The more he heard, the more sick to his stomach he became. “Please tell me you didn’t agree to move back in.”

When her head snapped up, Merlin saw the blaze of anger in her gaze. “What kind of fool do you take me for? Of course, I’m not going back there.”

“Did he ask?”

Now, her cheeks pinked, though she didn’t back down from his question. “Yes. And I said no. Honestly, Merlin, sometimes I wonder what you think of me.”

Pushing back his chair, he rose and crossed the tiny kitchen. She stiffened as he approached, but held her ground, jutting her chin even higher to stare him down. “I don’t think you’re a fool.” He dared to reach out and cup her face, his touch gentle for fear of sparking more of her temper. “You’re strong, smart, and kinder than you want anyone to believe, but I also know you still love him, regardless of how he treated you. You follow your heart even when you know you shouldn’t. I just want you to realize this is one time you can’t.”

The hard set of her jaw softened. “I do. But it’s all right if you don’t believe me. When it comes to Val, I suppose I haven’t given you any reason to.” She caught his wrist, but instead of pulling him away, her fingers tightened and clung to him. “You’re wrong about how I feel, though. I don’t love him anymore. I care about him, of course, but when he was here, and he kept going on about how good things used to be, all I could think was, ‘But I’m happier now without you.’ So see? You don’t have to worry. I’m not going back to him, no matter how many times he tries to apologize.”

Merlin smiled and nodded. He wanted to believe her. The pang of how intense that desire was kept him mute, though. The prospect of Morgana moving out at all incited feelings he couldn’t unravel, let alone put a name on.

He should’ve gone back to the table after that. The air was cleared. But when her hand dropped away, and he was left standing there absorbing the flush of her skin through his fingertips, Merlin stopped thinking. He cradled her face, bent his head, and brushed a kiss across the other soft cheek.

“Merlin…” 

The whisper of his name wafting across his ear pulled him from the brink of foolishness. He let his hand drop and backed off, avoiding Morgana’s bright eyes. “I owe you an apology, too.”

“You don’t—”

“I should’ve trusted you to make the right choice,” he went on. “I’m sorry for that.”

His heart hammered against his ribs, the roar of his blood almost blocking out everything else. It was just a friendly kiss, he tried to convince himself. Like any other. It wasn’t the first. Everyone kissed each other on the cheek all the time—well, maybe not him and Arthur, but certainly everybody else. It meant nothing except to show how much affection truly was between them, so this shouldn’t have felt any different.

Except it did, and he knew it, and Morgana knew it, and now Merlin had no idea why he’d done it in the first place except to say…he’d wanted to.

“It’s all right, Merlin. I know it’s just because you care.” 

When she joined him at the table, she dropped both subjects, shifting focus to Gwen’s upcoming hen night, but as Merlin listened to her chatter on about her plans, he kept turning her words over and over in a secluded corner of his brain.

Yes, he cared. A lot.

The question that nagged him, however, was if he cared because Morgana was his friend, or because he wanted something more?

* * *

“You have to. It’s perfect.”

Merlin scowled at Arthur over the edge of his beer. This was not how he’d intended this night to go when he’d accepted Arthur’s invite to head to the pub while the girls worked on the wedding favors. It was supposed to be a tulle-free, boys night out, where he’d listen to Arthur pretend to be annoyed about all of Gwen’s fussing and then Arthur would listen to him complain about his long hours at the hospital. Then, they’d both get pissed, take a taxi home, and raid the kitchen for the cheesecake Gwen kept hiding from Arthur. The last thing he wanted was to get cornered about wedding arrangements before he’d finished his first pint. Specifically, about escorting Morgana since Valiant was out of the picture. “Not if I already have a date.”

“Except you don’t. Which is why this is perfect.”

Sometimes, he wished they didn’t know so much about each other’s personal lives so he could refute Arthur’s claim. “Morgana doesn’t want to be stuck with me all night.”

“You think she’d prefer having to fend off Gwaine and Leon now that Valiant isn’t attached to her hip? It’s hard enough keeping Gwaine off her at the office.”

That was the first Merlin had heard about either man approaching Morgana. Leon was a good sort, but Gwaine played around too much to be taken seriously. Why hadn’t Morgana said anything?

“If Leon’s interested—”

“Doesn’t matter. Morgana’s not. So do the right thing and ask her, all right?”

All night, Merlin worried at the request like a dog with a bone. On one hand, they were best man and maid of honor. It made sense to go together. They would be the ones to ensure the entire day ran smoothly so Arthur and Gwen didn’t have to worry about the details, and without other dates in the way, they could concentrate on what was important.

On the other hand…all he had was that it was Morgana. While neither one of them brought up Valiant or the night he’d come to the flat again, a charge had hovered between them ever since. Merlin caught himself watching her when she wasn’t looking, dwelling on details he’d seen but never really noticed before.  
The freckle on her throat and the way she unconsciously touched it when she was lost in thought. 

How pale and crystal-clear her green eyes were after she’d scrubbed off her make-up and joined him on the couch for whatever was on TV that night.

The soft curve of her full breasts when she’d shift sides and lean against him, giving him no other choice but to put his arm around her back to give her room to nestle in.

She pervaded his dreams as well. He’d woken up hard and frustrated more than once, the memories of her willing flesh and husky laughter dissipating with the rising sun. They were gone by the time he saw her after work, but then the cycle began all over again, where his world narrowed down to her and everything she evoked in him.

She was more than a friend to him. He realized that now. But wanting more didn’t negate how much he valued her friendship. If he attempted to voice these deeper feelings, he ran the risk of losing the camaraderie and closeness they shared.

Was it worth it?

He still hadn’t made up his mind when they got back to Arthur and Gwen’s. Morgana rose from a midst of empty wine bottles and scarlet ribbons as soon as they opened the door.

“Get me out of here, Merlin.” She lurched to a halt when her ankle remained trapped by unseen ribbons and laughed as she and Gwen both attempted to extricate her foot. “I swear, this wedding will be the death of all of us, not just Arthur’s bachelor days.”

Arthur collapsed on the end of the settee and reached drunkenly for Gwen’s waist. “Yes, get her out of here, Merlin. I have my future wife to ravish.”

“Nobody wants to see that,” Merlin said, trying to match their teasing tones. It was hard with Morgana flushed and smiling, then looping her arm through his to haul him toward the door. He could only toss back his own goodbye as Morgana waved her fingers at the pair and pulled him into the corridor.

Though she eased her hold, Morgana remained close as they waited in the lobby for the taxi she called to arrive, as they rode in silence back to their flat, as they waited for the lift to take them up to their floor. Merlin made his decision the moment she pulled away from him to step inside.

“So I was thinking…”

Morgana shot him a sly smile over her shoulder as she reached for the row of buttons. “On a night out with Arthur? How on earth did you accomplish that?”

The lift wasn’t large, but there was enough room for him to stay to the side so he could talk to her directly. Best to just say it, because if he didn’t, he’d run out of nerve. “I’d like to escort you to the wedding.”

Though her smile didn’t diminish, Morgana seemed to go completely still. “What?”

Fear that he’d overstepped after all turned his tongue to rubber, but he did his best and barreled on. “The two of us. The wedding? I want us to go together. That is, if you haven’t made other—”

“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Morgana interrupted. “I’d love for you to be my escort.”

The rush of pleasure at her acceptance heated his face. He was saved from coming up with a response that didn’t make him sound completely besotted by the lift stopping on their floor. He hung back to let her exit first, then as she unlocked their flat door, his gaze fixed on the fall of hair down her back.

He yearned to touch it, feel its silken strands wind around his fingers. Was that a step too far? He hadn’t yet passed the point of no return if she wasn’t truly interested in more. Saying yes to the wedding arrangement could’ve been purely pragmatic on her part. The only way to know would be to ask, but Merlin wasn’t foolish enough to try that.

He let the desire go. Patience. That was what he needed.

She cast a smile over her shoulder as she pushed opened their door. Her eyes were clear and warm, everything he could’ve hoped for.

 _And Morgana._ He needed her, too.

* * *

Gwen was beautiful as she walked down the aisle, and Arthur had never looked happier, but it was Morgana, resplendent in red chiffon as she trailed after Gwen, that Merlin couldn’t take his eyes off.

He’d barely seen her in the time since she’d agreed to be his date. Part of that was his doing. When given the opportunity to put in more hours at the hospital, he’d deliberately taken them. More than anything, he wanted this to be real for both of them, and not a matter of convenience for her. He didn’t want to find out in the days before the wedding that she would only ever see him as a friend. If that was what she wanted, he’d accept it, but now that he’d acknowledged how deep his feelings for her ran, he knew her denial would be the hardest thing he’d ever have to deal with.

So avoiding her kept up the illusion, and today would be the test. But when she caught his eye and shattered the solemn moment with a smile aimed straight at him, he wondered how he’d ever found the strength to stay away from her for so long.

The ceremony was a blur. So were the photographs afterward, with the exception of the one taken of just him and Morgana. He thought they’d get the same car to the reception, but Uther swept in and whisked her away, leaving Merlin to ride with the other groomsmen. When alcohol started flowing before they reached the first stoplight, he had to endure thirty minutes of teasing when he abstained. He needed his wits about him. There was no telling what he might say if he got pissed.

When he realized he didn’t even get to sit next to Morgana at the reception dinner, however, he caved and downed his first glass of champagne before the starters were cleared away. He’d had four when it came time for his toast, but as he rose to speak, he caught Morgana’s expectant smile out of the corner of his eye.

Her cheeks were pink, her champagne flute nearly empty. The speech he’d memorized fled, leaving behind only raw emotion.

The room fell silent. Though Merlin looked out over the crowd, Morgana’s image was all he saw.

“Arthur’s expecting me to tell stories about him,” Merlin said. “And I could, no doubt about that. I could tell you things that would get him arrested in certain countries.” A titter ran through the audience. “But today isn’t about embarrassing Arthur, even though he makes it so easy for me. Today is about celebrating love, his and Gwen’s, and the gift they’ve given the rest of us in allowing us to share this day with them. We get to witness what real love looks like, the joy that comes in knowing the person who means the most to you in the whole world is there at your side. If we are ever half that lucky, we would still be immensely blessed.” He lifted his glass. “To Arthur and Gwen.”

Applause accompanied sitting back down. Arthur leaned over and murmured, “Well done.”

Somehow, with the toast out of the way, Merlin found the means to relax. He joked with the other groomsmen. He kissed the great-aunts and shook the hands of the great-uncles. He even made nice with Uther. The only person he didn’t get a chance to speak with before the dancing started was Morgana, though she was never far from his thoughts.

As Arthur and Gwen took the floor for their first dance together as husband and wife, Morgana materialized at his elbow. “That wasn’t the speech I heard you practicing in the loo,” she commented, her gaze on their friends rather than him.

Two could play this game, though the delicate scent of her perfume was more intoxicating than the champagne had been. “I figured Gwen deserved better than me mucking up her special day.”

“I think you’ve made it even more special.” Her hand curled around his arm. “Come on. I want to dance.”

He followed her onto the floor, holding his breath in anticipation of what might come next. Goosebumps rippled down the back of his neck when she stopped and slid her hand to his shoulder. Her touch was warm, nails scratching lightly as she pressed to his front. Bright eyes lifted to his, glowing with happiness.

“Finally,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

Her hand seemed so tiny when he took it in his. “I never would’ve guessed you were being run ragged. Gwen seemed fine when she came down the aisle.”

“She was. That’s not what I meant.”

“Then—” He broke off as her intent sank in. He swallowed against the tightness of his throat. His mind raced, searching for the right words, but nothing came.

They began to sway to the music, not really dancing as their feet barely left the floor. Morgana rested her cheek against his chest, her fingertips tickling along his nape in time with the song, while Merlin tightened his arm around the back of her waist and concentrated on how good she felt molded against him. There was an air of familiarity about the way they fit together, reminiscent of the nights they occasionally spent watching telly, but the addition of her light caress made his blood rush faster than it ever had before.

He bent his head and nuzzled the top of her head, inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo. Morgana’s sigh heated his skin through his shirt.

“Took you long enough,” she murmured.

The incongruity of her words with the tenderness of the moment drew Merlin back. “What does that mean?”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “It means, when it comes to waiting for you to accept how good we could be together, I have the patience of a saint.”

“Only you would equate yourself to a saint.” But like her earlier statement, he was trapped in the whirlwind of his own thoughts at her implications. At this point, it had to be better to come out and tell her exactly what he’d been going through.

Morgana beat him to the punch.

“Considering some of the things I’ve been imagining about us, I think sainthood is beyond my grasp anyway,” she said. “And before you say anything, no, it’s not the champagne talking. This is all me. It took me by surprise, that’s all. I never thought it would be you that would make me feel like this. We’ve been friends for so long, that was all I could see. I saw the friend who made me laugh, the boy who infuriated me when he ganged up with my brother to tease me, the man who told me I deserved better when I got the short end of the stick. But maybe that was the key. Maybe I needed someone I trusted in my life to show me what real feelings were all about.”

Hearing her confession, the confirmation of everything he’d hoped for and nothing he’d feared, grounded every wayward thought, honing in on her and the possibilities she presented. “I’ll always be your friend.” He abandoned his hold of her hand to bring his fingertips to the slight scope of her chin, brushing his knuckles along the strong line of her jaw, then stretching his hand to cup the side of her face. “But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t wished for more. I was just too afraid of losing what I already had.”

“You can’t.”

Though they were in the middle of the dance floor, and the moment was really Arthur and Gwen’s, Merlin closed the gap between them to touch his lips to hers. The electricity was immediate, so much more than the brief caress they’d had the night of Valiant’s visit. Morgana whimpered in the back of her throat the second before her arms came up and looped around Merlin’s neck, drawing him closer, deeper, searching for more as he did the same. It was all Merlin had yearned for and yet still not enough. It likely wouldn’t be enough until they were away from the reception and tucked into their own room to take what each so obviously craved.

Morgana was panting when she pulled away, but her delighted smile said it all. “You are much better at that than I imagined.”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I’ll bet I’m better at a lot of things than you’ve considered,” he teased.

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His touch softened, his gaze roaming over the contours of her cheeks and mouth only to settle back on her eyes. “I love you, Morgana Pendragon. I love your spirit, your heart, the way you know exactly what I need.” His smile widened. “I even love your cooking, believe it or not.”

“Lumps and all?”

“The lumps are the best part.” He rested his brow against hers and breathed her in. He never wanted this moment to end. “That’s how you know it’s real.”


End file.
